


Adrenaline

by thepatchmatrix



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Author's Lack of Medical Knowledge is Apparent, Dr. Knox's A+ Bedside Manner, F/M, Gen, Handwaving Galore, Maes Hughes Lives, Panic Attack, Please Just Go With It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Semi-graphic violence, The Author Regrets Nothing, all the tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepatchmatrix/pseuds/thepatchmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hughes manages to live and give Roy even more feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 1. I do have a second part planned that follows the Promised Day, but I've been struggling with it. Since I feel like this part ends well I've decided to post it (which totally goes against my "don't post WIP's" but oh well).

_September 29 th, 1914_

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned to confront the fake Maria Ross and instead found himself staring at Gracia. He’d just been stabbed by a woman with extendable _claws_ and he’d seen this _thing_ add the mole missing from its previous disguise with a crackle of red lightening. And yet, turning to try and buy some time, try and gain just those few more minutes it would take for Eastern Command’s switchboard to connect him to Roy, he’d found himself staring at one of the three people he would sacrifice everything for. For half a second, Hughes knew he would die, knew he couldn’t make himself move a single inch because his _beautiful wife_ was pointing a gun at his chest. Then, the thing _smiled_ and Hughes’ shoulder wound pulsed _._

In another universe, one where the adrenaline ran just a bit stronger, where the pain stayed dulled just a little more, Hughes would have stayed frozen, his mind too shocked to comprehend much beyond his wife’s features, even with the uncharacteristic smile. But here, in this universe, the sudden stab of pain kicked his mind back into high gear. As the _thing_ pulled the trigger, Hughes turned his body. The movement was miniscule, but instead of the bullet slipping between his ribs and passing through his left lung, the bullet caught on his rib cage and ricocheted up into his collar bone.

Slumped in the phone booth, Hughes was glad the _thing_ was an arrogant piece of shit. After waiting what seemed like an eternity for it to disappear from sight, he managed to pull himself upright and stumble out of the booth. While his initial instinct was to call for an ambulance or stumble back into headquarters, his gut was telling him those options were death sentences. It took a long, agonizing moment for his brain to recall the doctor he’d served with in Ishval that lived in a suburb outside of the city. Now the only problem he had to tackle was getting there.

A cab would be too easy to track and stealing a car would be an absolute disaster. Walking was the only option, though it was a long shot with the way his vision was shifting and spinning with every step. Trying to look inconspicuous, Hughes managed almost a mile before his vision abruptly darkened for a moment and he stumbled. Next to him, a car pulled to a sharp stop and a man called out his window.

“Hey, you alright?”

Hughes froze right down to his core. Logically, this guy wasn’t one of the _things_ after him. If he was, then there was no need for any sort of pretense. But how the hell could he explain his need to avoid hospitals with all the blood pouring out of him?

The front doors on the car slammed as the occupants got out and one of them grabbed Hughes by his shoulders, “Holy--! That is a _lot_ of blood. Let’s get you to the—”

“No hospital,” Hughes said hoarsely.  When the man tried to protest, Hughes continued, “Not safe. No. Hospital.”

At this point, the other man, the passenger, had gotten the back door open and was helping slide Hughes into the car, “Then where are we supposed to take you!?”

“Suburbs, north, know a Doc…” Hughes trailed off as the pain in his chest heightened. As his vision faded out, he rattled off an address he was pretty sure was Knox’s and passed out.

~*~

_October 27 th, 1914_

The pain, while not entirely gone, had dulled to a deep throbbing in his chest the next time Hughes opened his eyes.  The air smelled musty and the quiet clatter of dishes sounded from the open door to his left. Nothing in the room looked familiar and panic flitted through his mind. He couldn’t remember anything beyond passing out in the back of the stranger’s car, and while this clearly wasn’t a hospital, he couldn’t be sure he gotten away from that _thing’s_ reach. He had to know where he was and were those two men were. They had to keep his location quiet, for all their sakes.

His vision flashed white and he let out a quiet whimper as he tried to push himself up. Then there were hands pushing him back down and a rough voice fading in and out of his ears. Opening his eyes – _and when had he closed them?—_ he found Dr. Knox looking down at him.

“—down you idiot! I’m too tired to sew your sorry ass back together again!”

“I thought I got shot in the chest, not the ass,” Hughes rasped with a small, pain-filled smirk.

Knox’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at Hughes, “You got a smart mouth for a guy that’s been unconscious and delirious for the better part of a month.”

“A—“ He almost couldn’t comprehend it. Being out for a couple days, even a week would be believable, but a _month_?

“It’s October 27th.  Combine blood-loss with two infections and it’s no surprise you were out for so long. Plus, this isn’t exactly a sterile environment. I’m pretty sure the med-tent in Ishval was cleaner than this place,” Dr. Knox gestured around the musty room, “And you kept ripping your stitches the first two weeks trying to get out of bed to ‘keep everyone safe’.”

“Wh—What,” he coughed for a few moments then continued, “What’ve I missed?”

Dr. Knox sighed deeply and sat down heavily next to where Hughes lay and tried to put the last few weeks into words.

 “Fuck.”

~*~

Knox sat down heavily on his couch.  He’d thought hiding Hughes from the troop of people storming through his house was hard. Telling a man that his family and best friend thought him dead and said best friend was running himself ragged trying to bring the killer to justice had been _terrifying_. Hughes may be known as a goofy and all around nice guy, but that didn’t mean the man couldn’t be serious and hard when it counted. It was hard to forget that the man was the shrewdest member of Investigations once he’d glared at you long enough. And glare Hughes had for almost five minutes. Then he’d abruptly tired and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Running a hand across his face, Knox stood and went to make a cup of coffee. It was gonna be a long day.

~*~

_October 29 th 1914_

Against doctor’s orders, Hughes had pushed himself out of bed the moment he’d woken that morning. He had to be back to full health as soon as possible, even if that meant he worked himself to exhaustion. Hughes needed to be moving, needed to get out of bed and do something. He couldn’t just stare at wall all day, he had to work. The movement, the pain of walking helped clear his mind and keep it sharp. He had to process what he’d learned.

From the moment he’d registered that Amestris was a _fucking_ _circle_ , Hughes had known his days were numbered. While most people, even alchemists, wouldn’t recognize the significance of the country’s shape, Hughes had spent his career looking at some of the oddest and most perverse shit to come out of the human mind and had learned to trust his gut. And boy, had his gut stumbled onto the biggest conspiracy of all time. And while he didn’t know what the circle actually _did,_ there was no way it was anything good.

Hughes had to pause a moment and lean against the table in the kitchen as nausea welled inside him. The amount of blood Amestris had spilled from the very beginning of the country was immense.  Over _400_ years of bloodshed and for some sort of evil plan? And it had to be evil because nothing good could come out of that many deaths, no matter how you tried to spin it. And even worse, he had no problem believing that the military would condone such a plan. He’d seen what the military, what the Fürher would do at the smallest sign of insurrection. He’d been turned into a murderer just because they’d needed blood to soak the ground. He’d seen his best friend fall apart time and time again all because someone wanted to cover the country in death and destruction. He was going to lose his beautiful wife and precious daughter to the military’s schemes.

“Hey! Look at me! You need to calm down!” said a faint voice from somewhere behind Hughes and he realized that sometime between when he started thinking, _really thinking,_ about what he’d discovered and now that he’d started hyperventilating. Focusing, he tried to get his breathing under control. The slow, rhythmic press of a chest against his back slowly helped him calm.

“You idiot, what were you thinking?” Knox said, exasperated. He was holding Hughes’s back to his chest and keeping his breathing slow and exaggerated, “This is why you should be in bed. I don’t need a heart attack from finding you sprawled across the floor.”

“S-sorry. It just all kinda hit me at once,” Hughes pushed himself forward and turned so he could see Knox. They both stayed sitting on the floor staring at each other.

“You ever gonna tell me _why_ the military wants you dead?” Knox quirked an eyebrow, “I’d like to know what I’m risking my life for.”

Hughes felt his heartbeat pick up but took a few deep breaths. He couldn’t afford another panic attack, “You know how all that freaky alchemy stuff can do some pretty horrifying things in the wrong hands? Well, it seems like the ‘wrong hands’ have been running this country from the beginning.”

~*~

_October 31 st, 1914_

“Sit your ass back down or I will tie you to that chair until Mustang gets here!”

Hughes glared half-heartedly at Knox before sitting heavily on his chair, “But we can’t even talk to him! There’re too many eyes in Central!” he whined piteously.

Knox sighed heavily, “Yes, so we have to wait for him to reach out to me, I know. We’ve been over this 24 times Hughes. Rehashing it will not make anything go faster.”

“At least let me write a note or something? He’ll recognize my handwriting and—“

“And probably kill me for faking a note from you. And what if one of those homnco-things gets ahold of it? Or if the Mustang I’m talking to is that shape-changer one? What then?”

Hughes slumped forward, hands running back and forth through his hair, “I just…sitting here and doing nothing is killing me!”

“You think I like waiting?” Knox rubbed a hand across his face, “And the less people who know you’re alive, the less reason they have to go after your family.”

Lifting his head, Hughes stared hopelessly at Knox, who stared right back. All they could really do was hide and wait for the right opportunity.

~*~

_November 1 st, 1914_

Roy Mustang was sorely tempted to bang his head against the side of the telephone booth. After calling RIza and attempting to subtly clue her into the info he’d received from the Armstrong’s florist informant, he realized that he really did need to get rid of a car full of flowers. Having called most of his usual contacts, including his foster mother/aunt Madame Christmas, he still had over half of the bouquets left. Racking his brain for anymore numbers before he would have to resort to leaving some on Gracia’s doorstep and Hughes grave, he finally pulled out another name. Knox wouldn’t be pleased, but maybe the cranky doctor would have an idea. And he’d heard through the ever popular military grapevine that the man’s wife and son had reconnected with him so _maybe_ he’d take some of the flowers off his hands?

 The phone rang for an inordinately long time. Roy was about to hang up when the phone was picked up and Knox’s crotchety voice sounded on the other side of the line.

“Yes.”

“Dr. Knox! How are you this fine evening?” Roy cheerfully replied.

There was a long moment of silence from the line then Know said, “Terrible as usual. Was there a reason you called?”

Roy let out a forced laugh and answered, “Actually yes, I got a little drunk and—“

“I’m not patching your ass up if you did something stupid Mustang.”

“Ah, no, I’m not hurt. I just have a car full of flowers that I’m trying to get rid of. You want any?”

Silence once again filled the other side of the line before Knox sighed, “You do some stupid shit when you’re drunk. I’ll take some off your hands if you bring them here. And I might know some other people who’ll take some.”

“Really?” Roy was surprised. Calling had been a long shot that he’d been expecting to end with the doctor ranting his ear off and then slamming the phone, “Great, I’ll drive right over. See you soon!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

~*~

Knox turned from the phone to look at a where Hughes was asleep on the couch. The man had finally passed out after two days of forced bed rest interspersed with bouts of frantic pacing. The part of him that remembered life before Ishval, remembered what it was like to care about a patient’s wellbeing, remembered working with flowing blood and a beating heart, wanted to leave the man asleep. Hughes had been worrying himself sick for days and he was still weak enough from his last bout of infection that catching a cold might actually kill him. But on the other hand, Hughes might glare him to death if he missed Roy’s reaction to his not-so-dead state. That is if Roy didn’t immediately incinerate them.

With the incoming threat of a painfully hot death, Knox shook Hughes shoulder. Hughes woke with a start, his eyes hazy. In the few moments it took for his eyes to clear, Knox placed a hand against the man’s forehead. Hughes was a little warm, but the heat wasn’t alarming.

Hughes gave Knox an amused look and cocked an eyebrow, “So what’s the prognosis Doc?”

“You’ve contracted an acute case of dumb-assery. Unfortunately its terminal so all I can do is make you comfortable until someone kills you, “ He replied, deadpan, “Also, Mustang called. He’s on his way here.”

“You’re shitting me,” Hughes looked shocked.

“Nope. Now get your ass in the bedroom. I don’t want to die the moment he walks in.”

Hughes was up and hiding in the bedroom in moments with a speed belying his weak state. Knox checked the front rooms for any signs of Hughes being present with a forced calm. When he was sure there was nothing that could clue Mustang into Hughes’s presence, he went to the kitchen and started the kettle a grabbed some dusty mugs. He was going to need caffeine if he wanted to get through the night.

A knock sounded at the door just as Knox was pulling a box of tea bags from a cupboard. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the door and answered it.

“Gotta admit, I didn’t think you were one for flowers Doc,” Mustang smiled and offered Knox a large bouquet of pink tulips.

Letting the man in, Knox grudgingly took the flowers and closed the door behind Mustang, “Were you followed?”

Roy cocked an eyebrow but was unsurprised, “No. Not that it would be that hard to find me since my car is bursting with flowers. Now, what couldn’t you say over the phone?”

Knox carefully set the flowers down on the coffee table and asked, “Why did I have to sew your arm back together in the back of the med-tent at 3 in the morning the first month you were in Ishval?”

Becoming very still, Roy turned and gave Knox an appraising look before answering, “I got into a fight with Kimblee that started with fists and ended with him trying to turn my arm into a bomb. What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna need your gloves and any other weapons you have on you.”

“Knox—“

“Please just trust me Roy.”

Stunned at the use of his first name, Roy considered Knox for a full minute before reaching into his coat and pulling out his gloves. Then, he reached down and pulled a knife from a sheath around his ankle. He handed both to Knox, “Now you wanna tell me what the hell’s going on.”

“Hello Roy!” Hughes greeted before Knox could say anything. He walked out of the bedroom where he’d been hiding and waved.

Roy’s face lost all color and he took a startled step back before his face contorted into a furious expression and a knife slid into his hand from a wrist sheath. He held the knife in a familiar cross body position, ready to throw it just like Hughes had taught him back in their academy days, “What the fuck, Knox. He—I—What—“

“Roy! Please let me explain!“ Hughes stepped forward, trying to calm his friend. Roy brandished the knife in front of him as he stumbled backwards until his back met the wall. Angry, disbelieving tears formed in the corners of Roy’s eyes.

“NO! You’re dead! I—the blood—it—“ Roy was coming apart at the seams, “But she said she saw your body! And she talked about the scars, and your birthmark!”

“Whoever ‘She’ is, she lied Roy. I’m right here. You remember that Saturday after we got back from Ishval? I was dragging you all over Central trying to set you up with every girl we passed. The baker on H street punched me for insinuating that his daughter wasn’t good enough for you and as we were running away I pulled you into—“

“Into Madame Christmas’s, where you then tried to set me up with all of my sisters at the same time,” The knife slipped from Roy’s suddenly numb fingers as he stared at Hughes, “Maes, is…is it really…”

“Yeah, it’s me Roy-boy, in the flesh” Hughes grinned widely at his best friend as he walked forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. Trembling, Roy’s arms slowly wrapped around Hughes and completed the hug. The men leaned into each other, tears of relief pouring down their faces. The scene would have continued on for hours if not for one impatient, forgotten doctor and a whistling kettle.

“Are you two gonna cry all night or are we actually gonna get to the talking part?” Knox called as he went to pull the kettle off the stove.

Faces red, Roy and Hughes reluctantly pulled apart.

“It’s…it’s really good to see you Maes.”

“You too, Roy,” Hearing Knox start grumbling in the kitchen, Hughes continued, “We’d better get in there before he slips poison into the tea or something.”

“A sedative more like. I put enough work into keeping you two alive, killing you now would be a waste of my time,” Knox said as he set the mugs of tea down on the kitchen table, “Though it would save me some trouble in the future.”

Sitting down and picking up one of the mugs, Hughes blew lightly on the scalding liquid before taking a tentative sip. He’d been planning what he would say to Roy the moment Knox had finished telling him about what he’d missed while unconscious, but it had all flown straight out the window now that he actually had to explain everything to his best friend. Where should he even start? The circle? The shape-changing _thing_? Or maybe with an apology for leaving Roy hanging, literally?

 “I…stumbled upon something. And it’s not good,” Hughes stared down into his tea, “It’s…It’s pretty fucking terrifying actually.”

Taking a deep breath, Hughes looked up and stared straight at Roy, “Amestris is a transmutation circle that’s been built on the spilt blood of thousands. Every major conflict since the beginning of the country has just been _another fucking point_ on a circle. It’s huge, Roy”

Roy’s face paled as Hughes grabbed the map he and Knox had put together the day before. Spreading it on the table, Roy immediately began examining it. When his eyes completed a full rotation of the map, he jerked back from the table and his stomach roiled.  Slapping a hand over his mouth, he breathed deeply for a few moments, trying to regain control, before he finally gave in and ran for the bathroom. Deciding to give Roy a few minutes to regain some composure, Hughes and Knox shared a glance. While they knew that the circle must be something terrible, getting conformation in the shape of a puking Roy made it all the more terrifying. Roy wasn’t one to break easily, especially after the genocide they’d committed in Ishval.

They jumped when Roy suddenly sat back down at the table. He was still pale and droplets of water clung to his forehead, but he looked mostly calm, “What do you two know about the philosopher’s stone?”

Knox gave Roy a stern look, “That’s what’s in those homoncu-things right?”

“Yeah, one can be the ‘heart’ of a homunculus. And you can use it for way more than that. Philosopher’s stones break the law of equivalent exchange without rebounding the transmutation onto the alchemist. It’s a miracle wrapped up in a little, red stone,” he paused to take a fortifying sip of his cooling tea.

“I can sense a ‘but’ coming,” Hughes said hesitantly.

“But, for all that power, there has to be a price, “ Roy rubbed a hand over his face, trying to find an easy way to phrase it,  but coming up short, “The main ingredient, the _only_ ingredient in a philosopher’s stone is human lives. And that circle? That’s how you make one.”

Silence reigned in the small kitchen. Nobody moved for a long minute before Knox’s mug finally slid out of his numb hand and spilled tea across the map.

“Oh god…” Hughes whispered, his voice barely audible.

“And we can’t even do anything about it. I’m under heavy scrutiny so warning anyone I care about will put them at risk. All we can hope for is a surprise attack. I’ve been compiling as much information as a I can and I’m hoping to get some more from the Elric’s once they get back from the North.”

“But, Gracia and Elysia! We have to—“ Hughes stood suddenly, tears once again building in his eyes.

“We can’t! Everyone knows that they mean as much to me as you did so if they suddenly decide to take a trip out of the country, they’ll be killed. Hell, I can’t even smuggle them to Xing!” slamming his fist on the table, Roy quieted, “From the moment you died I’ve been trying to keep everyone safe. I’ve already thought of every possibility Maes. I don’t want them anywhere near this but there’s just no way. I’m so, so sorry, but there is nothing we can do but hope we can stop this.”

For the next few minutes, only the sounds of heavy breathing sounded in the kitchen before Hughes sighed heavily and sat back down, “Alright, then how’re we gonna fight this?”

The rest of the night was spent planning. At one point, Knox declared his abilities to help spent and disappeared into his bedroom. A couple hours later, pain in Hughes’s chest forced the two to move into the room Hughes had been occupying. By the time the early morning sun began peeking through the closed curtains in the kitchen, the house was filled with the quiet snores of the three men.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! I hope ya'll like it! :D

_April 3 rd, 1915_

Surprising Madam Christmas may have been one of the _best_ moments in Maes Hughes’s life. The woman knew everyone’s secrets, especially the big ones, so showing up alive when everyone was _sure_ he was dead had to have been a slight to her skills.

“No hard feelings?” Roy asked her with a sly smirk.

“You’ve learned well Roy-boy, you’ve learned well,” She shook her head with a wide, honest smile and turned to walk away, “Don’t you die on me now boys. I don’t want to see you in body bags and marked as dissidents.”

“Thank you, Madame, for everything. I promise that I’ll repay you,” Roy said solemnly.

“Oh, so you’ll remember me when you’ve made it big? Well, I guess I’ll have something to look forward to, won’t I,” And Madame Christmas disappeared down the tunnel.

Hughes and Roy shared an amused look, “You know, Hughes, I really wish she’d stop treating me like a kid one of these days.”

“You’ll always be her little Roy-boy, no matter how old you get, “ Hughes slung and arm around Roy’s shoulders, “Now, let’s get a move on, we have a government to overthrow and a country to save.”

~*~

When they reached to door to where they were meeting Fuery, Breda, and Hawkeye, Hughes pulled up short. Seeing this, Roy turned and gave Hughes a questioning look.

“I’m pretty sure Riza’ll shoot me if I walk in without explanation.”

“Ahh, yeah, that’d be bad. Give me a sec.”

A few minutes later, the door was opened and Hughes found himself the center of attention. While Breda and Fuery stared at him it delighted shock, Hawkeye glared.

“If we weren’t in the middle of a revolution, I’d punch you.”

Hughes was quick to move out of range.

~*~

_April 4 th, 1915_

Seeing the shocked looks on the faces of _Central’s Soldiers_ was downright hysterical. It seemed his reappearance hadn’t made its rounds through the troops yet. When a few of the privates started whispering about ghosts and zombies, Hughes couldn’t hold back his laughter. This seemed to spur the scared men into action. Over half of them took off in the opposite direction while the rest finally started following their orders. Well, they _tried_ to follow their orders. Shots were fired from the rafters, taking out the remaining men with quick precision.

It was almost beautiful the way the Central Forces were playing right into Roy and Hughes’s hands. Ordering the death of Mrs. Bradley had made their manipulations of the poor woman all the easier. He almost felt bad after seeing the absolute horror on the woman’s face, but they needed her testimonial to sway the nation.

~*~

And sway the nation it did, not that Hughes and Roy were in a position to see it. Running through the underground labyrinth with Riza watching their backs was almost nostalgic, if one were to classify the Ishvallan genocide as ‘good times’.

Riza pulled to a sudden halt, “Sir, here’s where the room was. It looks like someone closed it off.”

Transmutation marks covered the wall. Loud moaning and the sounds of a fight echoed from the other side.

“I guess you could just blow it?” Hughes suggested, “Though it’s probably closed for a good reason.”

“Unfortunately we need to go this way. Hopefully we—“ Roy was interrupted by the ever familiar voice of Edward Elric from behind the closed entrance.

“Dammit! Stop it!”

And then a deeper, unknown voice.

“Look out!”

Roy blew out the wall in a moment of panic. Then, with a deep breath to compose himself, Roy walked in and declared in his I’m-totally-in-control voice, “Things do always seem to get messy when you’re around. Maybe I could lend you a hand, Fullmetal.”

Behind Roy, Hughes and Hawkeye shared a commiserating look as Roy made a quip about new friends before focusing on the surrounding hoard.

Ed’s eyes widened comically, a hand coming up to point at Hughes, “Wha—? Lt. Co—“

“Focus Ed. We need to deal with these…things,” Hughes said as kindly as he could manage in such a tense situation, “I’ll explain everything when this is over, alright?”

“Right,” Ed turned back to the fight.

Watching the surrounding fighters’ tactics, he holstered his gun and unsheathed two of his larger knives. As the first being approached, he shifted his weight, ready for the first real work out in months when Scar yelled across the room to Roy and Hawkeye.

“Save your banter for later. Kill these things!”

The thing jumped at Hughes. Hughes swung. From there, it was a brutal fight. On instinct, he went for disabling points. Cut up the hands.  Stop the arms. But the thing kept coming.  He went for the neck. It didn’t dodge. Hughes kicked out, trying to catch the thing’s knee. He shoved a knife in the being’s stomach. He threw a punch into the thing’s face. Nothing slowed it down.

Hughes pushed the thing back to get some room to think. He didn’t have the superior strength of the bigger men in the room, nor the ability to make any longer ranged weapons than his knives. If he could just make it across the room to Ed, he might—.

His hair stood on end in an all too familiar way just before a wave of fire swept through the room.

In the sudden silence following the destruction of the beings, Roy quietly said, “They were the enemy. It had to be done.”

Hughes knew that Roy was trying to justify his actions to himself, not Ed.

“I’m pretty sure they were suffering more alive than dead, Ed,” Hughes said softly as he moved back to Roy’s side, “Ending it quick was the best release they’d get.”

Ed huffed and turned away from them, his shoulders hunching slightly, “I know it’s just—“

From above, there was a large crash and two figures fell through the ceiling. Knives raised, Hughes was ready for anything until the larger of the two figures spoke.

The panic was sudden, like being hit with a lightning bolt on a cloudless day. He’d barely seen the figure before his lungs felt like they were too large for his chest. He wanted to run away and find a corner to hide in but his legs wouldn’t move. His hands started to shake and it was all he could do to keep his knives in hand. Everything was fuzzy, out of focus except for that _thing_ in front of him.

And then there was a warm, steady hand on his arm. Hughes took in a stuttering breath and looked away from the _thing_. Roy had moved closer in Hughes’ panic. Not taking his eyes off the smirking homunculus, Roy squeezed Hughes’ arm gently.

“Oh, and there’s the bug I was supposed to kill! Where have you been hiding, huh? You gave me a lot of trouble, trying to find a replacement body and all. We’d hoped you’d turn up in a ditch somewhere, but alas,” Envy sneered.

Roy was quick with a sarcastic retort, “Aww, did you disappoint Daddy? Maybe…”

Hughes made himself ignore the rest of the conversation. While it wasn’t the smartest idea tactically, he knew the panic would overwhelm him if he allowed himself to focus on the _thing_ again. Instead he watched Roy. He felt weak, like a child. He’d gone pale as the ghost he was supposed to be. The strength he’d built up over the last six months had deserted him. And it was all because the _thing_ had deigned to show its face.

Red lightning crackled. Hughes’ breath hitched. Roy’s eyes widened.  _Gracia laughed_.

Focus caught, Hughes found himself looking at his wife’s visage again. And, just like last time, it was a false face on a false being, a perverted distortion of the love of his life. And it was a horrific thought, but that small part of his mind that had never left the bloody sands of Ishval declared he deserved it. That he didn’t deserve any happiness or love in the face of the destruction and murder he’d wrought in the name of the same government currently trying to sacrifice an entire country. The longer he stared, the more Hughes felt he was losing himself, like this was a nightmare. Or maybe he really had died and this was hell.

“Wow! If I’d known you all would react this much I would have gone after the wife and kid too. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to finish up here and go after them later. Father won’t be too disappointed by two less sacrifices. And you, little bug, well I—“

“Don’t you _dare_! Don’t you dare touch them!”

Finally, it was like a spark was lit. Hughes felt that ever familiar rush in his veins. Any sign of his previous thoughts the overwhelming panic was gone.  Roy’s hand tightened around his arm as he turned to face Envy.

“Aww, little bug finally has some fight in him,” Envy cooed in a false mockery of fondness, “I think I’ll enjoy killing you a second—“

Envy was cut off as their tongue exploded. Roy’s face had morphed into a mask of determined rage.

“You will never touch him. And you sure as _hell_ won’t touch them,” Roy readied for another snap.

Envy’s countenance shifted into pained fury. Sparks emerged from their mouth as their tongue reformed, “Fine, I see how it is. Have fun with _this_.”

Muscles bulged and grew in an explosion of red lightening.  The group took a collective step back as Envy’s true form emerged. It brought a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘Green with Envy.’

“That is _disgusting_ ,” Hawkeye muttered as she adjusted her aim.

Hughes tightened his grip, his knuckles straining white around his knives. Keeping his eyes on Envy, he addressed Ed, “This is our fight, Ed. Take the others and go on. We’ll catch up.”

With a quick nod, Ed started forward. When Envy tried to block their route, Roy sent a wave of fire to push the homunculus back. Then, when the room was cleared of all but the trio and Envy, Hughes allowed himself a small smirk, “You know Riza and I are useless against this thing, right?”

“Oh, so I have to do all the heavy lifting? Typical,” Roy grinned savagely, sending another wave of fire, “This is why I got that promotion.”

“And I got a higher promotion. To a General, so I can delegate tasks to underlings.”

They could practically hear Hawkeye roll her eyes behind them before, “Enough boys,” and then she added, “We’ve got your back Colonel.”

The fight was incredibly predictable. While Roy gleefully turned Envy into a burnt crisp over and over, Hughes and Hawkeye kept a sharp watch. It wouldn’t do for Roy to finish Envy off then be swarmed by more of the white figures from earlier.

When Envy finally switched tactics and took off into the tunnels in their smaller form, the trio was were quick to follow. Roy took point, his eyes constantly roving as the group moved through the tunnels. With Hughes just behind and to his right and Hawkeye twice the distance to the left, Roy felt a modicum of comfort. It was an old configuration, one they’d made and perfected in Ishval.

“There!” Hawkeye called, her aim swinging to an opening on her left. She let out two shots before ducking as Roy’s flames passed over and around her. The heat was severe, the fire burning blue with its intensity.

A high-pitched screech sounded as Roy’s flames ate at Envy. The trio was quick to approach and surround the figure. Envy was crumbling, their body whisping away into ash and smoke. A small green creature crawled away from where Envy’s head had been.

“Dammit, this again?” Envy whimpered. Their voice was pitifully small and tears collected in their large eyes.

With a flick of his wrist, Hughes sent one of his knives toward the ground in front of the creature, not caring that the move would probably wreck the blade. The resulting clash and spark stopped Envy in their tracks.

“I want to be surprised at how ugly you are, but I’m really not,” Hughes said as he knelt over the prone figure, “Only something as paltry as you could have such a sense of arrogance.”

There was a moment of silence before Hughes spoke up again, “So, who wants to kill it?”

Before, it had always been an unspoken truth that none of the trio would truly be able to surprise the others with their actions after the unity and understanding they’d found in Ishval. And yet, here was Maes Hughes shattering that rule and stunning his cohorts into silence.

Roy, as first in this as he was in most things, was quick to speak up, “But—, it—, Hughes! It tried to kill you! And it came _so damn close_! Why—“

“But it didn’t kill me. And it won’t, not like this,” Hughes sighed and leaned back to look up at his sputtering friend, “I’m still pissed, make no mistake. I just…can’t do it. Call me an idiot, but I’m starting to feel sorry for the damn thing.”

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Came the startlingly soft voice of Edward Elric from behind Hughes. The boy looked frightened yet relieved, like he’d expected a much harsher scene. Seeing the slight tremble of Ed’s body and Scar’s protective stance behind the boy, understanding dawned.

“No, Ed, this isn’t revenge. That’s not who I want to be.”

And then Envy decided to pipe in, “You stupid, sentimental moron! Not taking you revenge when you have the chance? Letting someone go because you feel sorry for them? What a load of bullshit! Don’t you pathetic worms know how to take what you want? Follow your gut? I tried to kill you. I threatened your wife and child! And Scar over here tried to kill your best friend and the pipsqueak. He did kill the little girly’s parents! You tried to exterminate his people!

“All of you are in the perfect positions to take your revenge, the ultimate opportunity! Fight each other! Grovel in the dirt like the worms you are! How can you think to work together when you’ve been enemies for so long, hurt each other so much! There’s…There’s no way you…no way you can...How? How could you do this? It doesn’t—How?”

As their raving had progressed, Envy’s tone had become increasingly hysterical.

“Oh,” Ed’s voice was even softer than before, “You’re jealous of humans, aren’t you?”

Envy just stared.

“We’re supposed to be lesser to you homunculi. And yet we keep defying expectation, getting up when the world beats us down, finding strength in friends and family. And that makes you jealous, envious, because you don’t have that.”

“Out of everyone, all the useless worms it just had to be _you,_ Pipsqueak,” Envy croaked out, their voice withering along with their strength, “It’s the ultimate humiliation.”

Tears began pouring from Envy’s eyes as they let out a wailing cry. Hughes felt his heart break a little more as the creature sobbed. This was why he couldn’t end it, couldn’t take his final revenge. For all that Envy had been a despicable being, had spent lifetimes manipulating and distorting humans into serving their father’s purpose, Envy was so naïve. They were almost child-like in their emotions, in their grief. And Hughes pitied them.

Reaching into their mouth, Envy pulled out their philosopher’s stone and gave a faded goodbye.

Ed looked stricken. Hughes could see what innocence Ed had left slowly leaking away. If it had been any other day, any other time, Hughes would have wrapped him in a hug and never let go. As it was, Hughes settled for standing and setting a hand on Ed’s shoulder. Ed leaned into the touch.

“It’ll be okay, Ed. No matter what, it’ll be okay.”

They spent a few more seconds letting Envy’s final act settle before moving on. They had a country to save.

~*~

Giant man-eating eyes were going to feature in Hughes nightmares for a very long time. Hughes hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from the screaming Ed as he was torn apart and pulled into the portal.

And now they were back to fighting the King Bradley Rejects. And damn, were they fast. Wincing as a sword caught his hip, Hughes felt his body tiring. He wouldn’t be able to keep up much longer. Dodging a swing by a hairsbreadth, Hughes whirled, readying himself for the next attack.

Then, Riza’s gun jammed, Roy’s gloves were cut, and one of the men moved just fast enough to put a sword to his throat and make him drop his knives. Scar was in a similar situation across the room.

 Hughes shook slightly as his adrenaline high started to ebb. The doctor was trying to convince Roy to open the portal. Part of him wanted to laugh. Roy Mustang could be more stubborn than an ornery mule until you pushed to right buttons. Unfortunately, two of those buttons were in the same room.

“Lieutenant!” Roy cried out. Hughes barely kept himself from calling out alongside him. A visceral fear was growing inside him, urging him to keep quiet, let attention fade away from him. Yet a small spark of instinct knew it wasn’t going to happen.

The more the doctor tried to cajole Roy into complying, the worse the feeling got.

“So tell me Mustang, what will it take? Your woman’s already bleeding out. Maybe some more incentive?”

Hughes blood froze. The sword at his neck dug in slightly.

“No! Don’t you—“ Roy cried out, struggling even harder against the men holding him.

The doctor smirked, “How about something a little different this time. Number 17, bring him here.”

A hand met Hughes shoulder and pushed him forward, the sword at his neck moving with him, keeping the pressure steady. The adrenaline from earlier flooded back and Hughes made a stupid decision. 

At the next push, he planted his feet and swung his head back. The crack skull against nose was incredibly painful and almost sent Hughes reeling. Working past the feeling, he then swept the arm with the sword out of the way and made to leap at the men holding Scar, hand reaching into his jacket for another knife, when his feet were swept out from underneath him. He fell heavily, landing beside Hawkeye.

Hughes scrambled to push himself up, but before he could even get to his knees, a foot landed on his back and pushed him back down. He tried once more for the knife when his hands were grabbed and pulled forward by the man he’d head-butted. Then, hands forced together and placed flat against the stone, the man on his back stabbed his sword through them and into the floor.

Hysterically, Hughes first thought was for how sharp the blade must be for it to pierce stone so easily. Everything felt surreal. Distantly, he could hear screaming and shouting. And then he registered his name being shouted over and over. Finally, it clicked and reality came rushing forth, bringing excruciating pain with it.

“Hughes! Hughes! Maes!” Roy’s voice became more hysterical with every word.

Barely able to move, Hughes forced his head to turn far enough to see Roy writhing in the grip if his captors.

“R—Roy. I’m okay, it—it’s okay,”

“No it’s damn well not okay! I—You both—” Roy was breaking, his walls crumbling down around him.

“Colonel don’t y—you dare. Don’t make everything w—we’ve done worthless. Don’t do it,” Hawkeye rasped, her voice strained. Hughes desperately wanted to turn his head and look at Riza but he couldn’t move, his strength spent. Instead he watched Roy, cataloging every shift in expression.

And then something changed. Roy’s head dropped, resigned. But Hughes could see the all too familiar glint of resistance. He was up to something.

“I won’t do the transformation!” Or maybe Roy was having a hard time thinking. Hughes wanted to throttle him.

Hughes tuned out Roy’s heroic speech. Mind straining, he tried to come up with some sort of plan, something to give them the advantage. Hughes wouldn’t be of much use with his hands injured, but he could still use his legs, still call out warnings. Scar would be their best bet as he was the least injured and best equipped to take the men on.

Mid-sentence, the doctor disappeared.

Things happened fast after that. One of the chimeras and the child from earlier dropped from the ceiling and the fight was back on. Roy broke free from his captors and ran to Hughes and Hawkeye. When he reached them, there was a moment of indecision before he grabbed Riza and covered her wound with his hand.

“Maes, I’ll get that—“

“Roy!” One of the Bradley Rejects was head straight for Roy’s back. Hughes tried desperately to twist his body and kick out at the attacker. Pain flared higher as his hands ripped more along the blade.  Roy was barely able to turn his head before another chimera, the gorilla one, swung down and kicked the man away.

“Let me get that for you, “ He said and gently grabbed the sword pinning Hughes hands, “On three.”

The chimera pulled it on “two.”

“Fuck!” Hughes cried, “Y—you ass!”

“Eh, didn’t want you to tense,” he shrugged, turning to punch another one of the Rejects.

Using his elbows, Hughes levered himself to a sitting position then reached for the other man,”Help me up Asshole.”

The world spun and jolted as he reached his feet. Hughes squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath. He had to stay present. There was a fight going on.

Planting his feet, Hughes guarded Roy and Riza as the fight raged around them. It didn’t last long.

Just as the fighting stopped and they could all take a breather, Bradley showed up. A hysterical giggle bubbled in Hughes throat. He barely pushed it down.

Once again, things happened fast. Next thing he knew, Roy was pinned to the floor, the doctor was dead, and the homunculus, Pride, forced Roy to open the portal. And then Roy was gone.

~*~

Looking down into the writhing, bulbous black masses was nauseating. Hughes stood next to the gorilla chimera.

“Riza, how are you?” Hughes asked.

Voice quiet but strong, she answered, “Been better.”

“General, I gotta know. How the hell are you alive?” asked the boar-like chimera as he turned to help the green one sit.

Hughes let out a small chuckle, “Envy missed,” At Riza’s unamused glare, he added, “And I know a crotchety old doctor who fixed me up and hid my continued existence.”                                 

His vision started to tilt sideways and his body must have followed because the boar-like chimera grabbed Hughes around his shoulders and helped him sit next to the green one.

“Woah, there.  Just lean on Jerso for a bit. I’ll find something to bandage those with,” he said, “Oh, and I’m Zampano. Monkey-boy over there’s Darius.”

They found a small, forgotten roll of bandages one of Darius’s pockets. Zampano worked quietly. Tying the last knot, he patted Hughes hand lightly and went over to Riza and Darius.

The ground rumbled and a black mass rose from the hole in front of them.

“The hell is this!” Darius called out just before the mass engulfed them.

It felt like eternity. The darkness was suffocating and slimy and filled with a sense of horror.  And then it was gone.

Heaving a huge breath, Hughes immediately turned to check on Riza. She was looking back at him with wide eyes.

Jerso was the first to break the silence with a whispered, “Holy. Shit.”

Above, blue lightening shrieked. Below, crashes rumbled. Behind them, a pair of soldiers clad in Briggs winter gear ran up and one called out, “Don’t move!”

Following them was a more ragtag group that included Major Armstrong. They stopped in shock at the sight of Darius holding Riza and an alive Maes Hughes leaning against Jerso.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye?  Lieu—General?” Major Armstrong gasped. Excluding the other large man, the group stared at Hughes in utter confusion, “You’re ali—“

A man riding a column of fire shot up from the floor and continued through the hole in the ceiling. He was closely followed by older version on a pillar of rock. Then, finally, Roy appeared. He was riding a giant, stone hand and being supported by a dark-haired woman. Hughes barely registered the other column of rock or the shout of “Izumi!” from the other large man. Instead, he ran a critical eye over Roy’s form. Nothing looked to be missing, but he’d heard that the gate could take anything, including organs.

“Colonel!” Riza exclaimed relieved. Roy’s head swung towards her, but his eyes didn’t connect. They were widened, searching. Roy made no move forward, instead dropping to his knees were he was standing. His sight was gone.

“Lieutenant, how are your injuries? And where’s Hughes?” he asked.

“I’m here,” Hughes said quietly before letting Riza take over the rest of the conversation.

 ~*~

In the end, it had been ridiculously easy, at least compared to expectations.

Hughes had watched his friend’s backs as Riza directed Roy’s blasts. With artillery raining down and the physical fighters giving as many hits as they could, Father had eventually fallen to the _incredibly_ pissed Edward Elric and Greed. After recovering from the last two blasts Father had doled out, by way of losing control of the powers he’d stolen, Hughes stood with his friends and watched Ed prepare what became his final transmutation. He watched as Ed did the impossible and brought Al back.

Now, Maes Hughes was ensconced in a hospital bed watching his best friends silently moon over each other. Having pulled rank to get them all placed in the same room, he’d hoped the two would finally confess and reach the ultimate bliss of a romantic relationship. Now he was regretting it. How Roy was pulling off moon-eyed stares when Riza wasn’t looking was a mystery Hughes never wanted to solve.  And Riza kept reaching out to take Roy’s hand before remembering his wounds.

It was driving him crazy.

“Please just kiss you two. If I have to deal with your pining the entire time we’re here, I might just—“

“Hughes…” Roy’s eye was twitching, and Riza looked ready to commit murder.

“What?” Hughes said, exasperated, “Anyone can tell you’re in love. I think it’s time you finally admit it and put the rest of us out of our misery. And haven’t the last months proven that time is limited?”

Cheeks bright with a blush, Riza turned to look at Roy. He was clutching at his bedsheets,  hands white-knuckled and cheeks slowly turning an embarrassed red, “I…,” she paused a moment then mustered her strength, “Roy, he’s right. Screw chain of command. I love you, you idiot and if you can’t handle that than—“

She was cut off by Roy standing and moving to her bed with uncanny precision, “I love you Riza Hawkeye.”

Hughes looked away as they kissed, trying to give them the closest thing to privacy they could get.

~*~

_April 5 th, 1914_

The next morning, Hughes was alone in the hospital room. Riza had been taken for a minor surgery to repair the muscle damage in her neck and Roy was getting the same thorough stitching process on his hands that Hughes had the night before.  Now, with the room quiet, Maes could think.

Had it really been six months? It felt like he hadn’t seen his family in decades, like a normal life was only a dream from long ago. He’d been hiding, living in fear for so long that going back to an open life was intimidating.

And if he was being honest with himself, Maes was terrified. He wanted his wife and daughter, wanted to spend forever hugging them, but he had changed, become harder. Was that the man he wanted to be around them? A man who’d lied about being alive for months, who’d help take down a government? And yes, all of his actions were for good reasons, meant to protect others, but at what cost? Guilt and regret swirled through his mind. Everything he’d been pushing back, bottling up since he was shot was rising to the surface.  Maes’ breath hitched, his chest tightening.

Alone, Maes felt like he was dying all over again.

“Daddy?”

Hughes whipped his head up. Elicia was standing in the doorway, clutching at the frame. Her eyes were teary and she was trembling.

“Eli—Elicia,” Tears pooled in Hughes eyes and he opened his arms, “Elicia.”

She hesitated for a heartbreaking moment before running forward and launching herself into his arms, “Daddy! You’re back!”

“Yes, baby, I’m back. I’m back, I promise,” He promised, voice thick. He clutched her tight, not giving a damn for the pain in his hands.

“Elicia? Sweetheart where are—“ Gracia stopped in the doorway, the bouquet in her hand dropping to the floor, “M—Maes?”

“Hey Beautiful,” Maes reached out a hand, the other keeping Elicia pressed firmly to him. Gracia brought a hand to her face, disbelief and shock fading away into confused joy as she moved forward.

“Maes! You idiot!” Gracia wrapped her arms around the two, almost collapsing into the bad with the rest of her family crying, “Why would you—How—Damn you Maes Hughes.”

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I missed you so much.”

Explanations would come later. Maes had a lot to make up for and quite the story to tell. He could deal with the guilt and regrets later. For now, he just wanted to hold his family and revel in the first piece of safety he had felt since the first crackle of red lightening and the extra few moments of adrenaline that saved his life.

 

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me! 
> 
> And as always, come visit me on [tumblr](http://thepatchmatrix.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> I'd absolutely love any feedback! I will eventually be posting the rest, I just need to get past the block I'm having with it and make some of the more important plot decisions that have been rattling around in my head reality. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://thepatchmatrix.tumblr.com/)


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